


ur mum

by nokomisfics



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Silly, THIS IS REALLY, i saw the prompt on phanfic and ran with it, its so difficult to imagine a young louise tho, story of my life, tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4990195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nokomisfics/pseuds/nokomisfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil’s got the hots for dan, who has the hots for Phil’s mum. This isn’t crack but it might come dangerously close, you have been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ur mum

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry.

_i._

"Coming over after school today?" Louise asks, leaning against her locker and watching as Phil dumps an armful of books into his.

"I dunno," he answers.

"Come on, you haven't been over for weeks. What's your excuse?"

"Homework?" Phil offers lamely. He shuts his locker and brushes his too-long fringe out of his eyes, only to be greeted with Louise's exasperated expression. "What? I'm sorry. My mum just thinks I've been over at yours too often."

"Oh yes," Louise mutters, and immediately he knows she's about to say something sarcastic. "Because God forbid her gay son fucks his female best friend."

Bingo.

Phil rolls his eyes at her eccentrics. "I'm not gay," he says simply.

"Yeah. Bisexual, whatever." Louise rolls her eyes. "Bottom line?"

"I can't," Phil repeats. No matter how much he wants to, he knows it'll piss his mum off royally if he goes. "I'll try for next weekend though, alright?"

"Fine." Louise's wide eyes are already scanning the hallway. "Where's Chris, anyway? One day I swear he's going to get trampled under all of these excited freshmen."

Chris Kendall is the third person in their trio, and the only one puberty has seemingly skipped over, if his dwarfed stature is anything to go by. What the guy lacks for in height, however, he makes up for in attitude.

"Probably landed himself in detention again," offers Phil sensibly. "Okay, I'll head home now. I'll see you - "

"Oh, God," Louise breaks through, turning around to stare at him with her mouth hanging open. "Look who's coming our way."

Used to Louise's theatrics, Phil doesn't expect much when he peeks over his plump friend's shoulder. For once, however, Louise's reaction is justified.

For it is Daniel Howell striding towards them.

 _What have I done?_  is the first thought that races through Phil's head, but it's quickly followed by three reassurances: a) he hasn't actually  _done_  anything in the past few days or, in fact, his entire life in this school that would warrant a visit from Wild Child In Residence Daniel Howell; b) Howell could easily be walking towards the boy whose locker stands next to Phil's, possibly to punch and/or verbally assault said boy because of his chosen haircut and/or sexual orientation; and c) that is not in fact Daniel Howell but a new student who looks scarily similar to him, in which case said new student should practice keeping a lower profile and possibly consider expensive facial surgery.

It soon turns out that all three reassurances were for naught, when Daniel Howell (Wild Child In Residence, very definitely not new student with similar features) strides right past Louise, right into Phil's personal space, smiles a crooked smile and says by way of introduction, "What's up, Lester?"

"Just about to head home, actually. Goodbye."

Phil turns around and begins to walk away, but there's a hand on his shoulder pulling him back.

"Please don't kill me!" he blurts out, turning to face Howell with his eyes halfway shut. "I've had a peaceful seventeen years and I really wouldn't mind seventeen more, and before you do lay a hand on me, think of my parents! Think of my siblings! Think of - " he flails. "Louise!"

Behind Howell, the space that was once occupied by his best friend is now regrettably empty.

"Screw Louise," he adds as an afterthought.

Howell's still looking at him, now with a mildly amused look on his face. "Are you done?" he asks.

The hallways are now nearly empty, and Phil is too busy thinking about how there won't be any witnesses to his imminent and undeniably brutal murder to answer.

"You need to chill, dude," Howell continues with a laugh. He leans against Phil's locker (shit, Phil realises with a start that he now knows where Phil's locker is, and immediately begins to wonder if he'll be able to request for a new one by the end of Monday, and how big of a pity that would be because this one is so conveniently located) and adds, "I just need your help is all."

And Howell's the kind of guy who dresses completely in black and  _smokes_ , so Phil squeaks out: "Nope."

He watched as Howell raises an eyebrow lazily, and those brown eyes are filled with the kind of evil that Phil reckons works slowly but surely. "Want to rethink that answer of yours, Lester?"

Phil's about to say that no, he actually doesn't, and even if he did his answer would remain the same, but then he realises that the next seventeen years of his life are at stake here. "What kind of help?" he questions slowly.

Howell grins a triumphant grin, which is stupid because Phil hasn't agreed to anything, which is in turn stupid because who is Phil anyway to refuse something to Wild Child In Residence, Daniel Howell?

"I've got this Bio essay due next week," Howell answers, smiling in a God-awful cheeky manner. "I reckon a little help from the local nerd wouldn't go amiss."

Phil briefly considers asking Howell if he just thinks he's a nerd because he dresses like one, but thinks again of the next seventeen years of his life and how much he could accomplish in them if Howell doesn't kill him here today.

There's a loud honk then, and Phil braves a glance out of the transparent double doors of the school. His mum's blue Toyota is parked in front of them, and she's waving at him to hurry up with a sunny smile on her face. When he turns back to Howell, the boy's eyes are on his mum, too.

Slowly, he drags them back to Phil. His grin has, and Phil hadn't previously thought this possible, gotten even more evil. "Well?" he drawls, "What do you say?"

Phil doesn't obviously say anything, from the fear that he might say the wrong thing.

Howell pulls a black marker seemingly out of nowhere and grabs Phil's arm, and the boy is convinced this is how he's going to die (black ink poisoning? is that an actual thing when squids aren't concerned?) until he realises Howell's just scrawling his phone number onto Phil's skin.

Rude.

"Just text me when you're free this weekend, a'ight?" says Howell, and then he's stepping back to nod at Phil, and departing down the hallway leaving Phil behind all light-headed but, nevertheless, glad to still be alive.

"Got a date?" teases his mum when he climbs into the car and they pull out of the school.

And he laughs the entire way home, because Daniel Howell would much sooner go out with his mum then go out with Phil himself.

_ii._

**Saturday, 9:41 AM | Phil  
 _Hi, this is Phil. Is 4 o’clock today evening fine with you?_**

**Saturday, 11:10 AM | Dan  
 _ye_**

**Saturday, 11:12 AM | Phil  
 _do u need my address or ?_**

**Saturday, 2:56 PM | Dan  
 _no_**

_iii._

Phil’s house is big. It’s a multi-storeyed monster with a huge, grassy lawn and an even huger backyard that’s mainly dominated by - you guessed it - a pool. Dan lets out a low whistle as he takes it all in - he has enough time to, seeing as the stroll up the driveway in itself takes him a good seven minutes. At the front door, he raises a fist to knock but it swings open before he can.

“You’re here,” says Phil, and those stupid fucking blue eyes are still wide and scared as he looks him up and down and shivers.

“Yes.” He leans against the door ledge and raises his eyes to look over the boy’s shoulder. “Is coming in an option?”

Phil steps aside mutely to let him in, and as Dan strolls past, he hears him say, “So you were being serious.”

In lieu of replying, Dan takes in the living room: wall to wall carpeting, vases of artificial flowers in empty corners and a shelf full of glittering little ornaments, probably from Japan or some other vague Asian country. When Phil comes to stand beside him, he asks, "Home alone?"

"No." It's definitely a squeak this time. "And even if I were, that wouldn't give you  _any right_  to kill - "

"Jesus fucking Christ!" explodes Dan, turning completely to stare down at Phil. "Do you honestly believe I have nothing better to do, or that I could be arsed enough to take your life for absolutely no reason?"

Phil just stares at him, and Dan is about to call it quits and just head home, because this isn't going to work if Phil insists on being a little shite about it.  But he decides against it, and lets a little smirk overtake his lips.

"So,  _are_  you home alone?"

 

Turns out he isn't. ("Mum's by the pool, sunbathing." Perfect.) Phil looks just a tad less terrified of Dan than he was prior to his explosion, and insists that they attack Phil's project in the kitchen instead of going up to Phil's room.

Which is fine by Dan, because there's a window in the kitchen that opens up to the backyard, and in the backyard lies Phil's Mum clad in nothing but a bikini, and things couldn't have been handed to him better.

When Phil disappears up the staircase (a huge, spiraling one, which - come on, that's completely unnecessary and bordering on showing off now) to fetch his biology books, Dan pushes himself away from the counter he's been perched on and crosses the kitchen to lean halfway out of the window.

"G'day, Mrs. Lester!" he calls out loudly.

On the far side of the pool, she pulls up the wet towel she's laid across her eyes and squints at him in confusion. Then her trademark grin flies onto her face. "You must be Daniel!" she yells back, getting to her feet and reaching for the towel she was lying on. "One moment, I want to come say hi properly."

Perfect, repeats Dan in his head again as he watched her wrap the towel around her waist, which is a pity but Dan figures he'll live. Then she walks the length of the pool towards him, and  _shit_  she really shouldn't be swaying her hips like that.

“Did you just get here?” she enquires, and Dan thinks it only polite to drag his eyes up from her arse to look her in those shockingly blue eyes.

“Yeah, Phil let me in.” He shrugs slowly, giving his prominent clavicles some time to shine. The he cocks his head back and looks down at her. “I don’t suppose he mentioned why I came over?”

She shakes her head, drawing Dan’s attention to that wild mane of fiery red hair. It looks so incredibly soft, and Dan is tempted to run his fingers through it, twist a little strand round his forefinger and just tug, but he doesn’t ( _obviously_ , there’ll be time for that later).

“Bio project,” he tells her. And then he leans back to stretch his arms over his head, and is conscious of his shirt riding up to reveal a patch of his flat stomach over his jeans. To his dismay, her eyes don’t run anywhere south of his face.

“You best be getting to it, then,” she points out, another grin creeping onto her face. “I’ll be out here if you boys need anything.” She turns around to walk away, and then asks over her shoulder - “You’ll stay for dinner, of course?”

 _Perfect_.

 

Phil reappears not long after with a pile of books, a writing pad and a couple of pens all balanced precariously in his hands. As he sets them on the kitchen counter, he casts a sideways glance at Dan. “Aren’t about to help me, are you?”

“Look at you,” says Dan, “A moment ago you were scared I might strangle you, and now you’re demanding for help? Pick an approach and stick with it, Lester.”

“Well.” Phil clears his throat and pulls himself onto the stool on the other side of the counter. He reaches for a thick brown book and flips it open, then glances up at Phil apprehensively. “What’s your project about, anyway?”

“Structure and functions of the liver,” answers Dan smoothly. The project is (as of today) seven months overdue, and his teacher’s rather given up asking him for it, but he supposes he might as well get something out of this little game.

“Right.” Phil nods resolutely, flipping to the relevant chapter in the book. Then he blows a breath out of his nose, and the poor boy looks rather helpless. Dan wonders fleetingly if he’d been wrong in assuming Phil is the nerd he’s always appeared to be, but then squashes that theory. The time for take-backs has long since passed.

“Go on then,” prompts Dan.

“How much can you tell me about the liver?”

There’s a long pause. And then, meekly offered: “Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell?”

_iv._

To Phil’s chagrin (and fear, that is well-disguised but nevertheless present), Howell stays for dinner. He looks odd, sitting there at their dining table in his black band t-shirt and black skinny jeans and black combat boots, and his dyed fringe falling over his eyes and those big black studs in both of his ears. And it’s, obviously, undeniably unnerving to have Wild Child In Residence make casual conversation with  _his mum_.

“Where do you live, Daniel?” she’s asking him, spooning a lump of jacket potatoes onto her plate. She hands the dish to Phil, who sets it back on the table without taking a serving. He’s rather lost his appetite under all of this  _oddness_.

Howell throws his head back and laughs (maliciously, Phil might add), and then says, “It’s Dan, please, Mrs. Lester.” He then proceeds to describe an address that’s located quite literally on the other side of town.

Phil watches as his mum wrinkles her tiny, button-like nose, a pit of impending doom slowly growing in his chest. “How do you plan on getting back?” she asks, and Phil’s already thinking,  _crap crap crap crap no holy crap_.

Howell shrugs lazily, an action Phil’s noticed him doing often since dinner started. It makes the veins in his neck stand out, and the dip of his clavicles become more pronounced. Stupidly enticing, Phil opines mentally.

“I’ll walk.”

 _Crap_.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Phil will drive you back, won’t you, darling?”

And as much as Phil wants to say no, of bloody course he’d rather not drive home the one person who terrifies him to his bones, he just nods mutely.

“Lovely,” says his mum, and when he looks at Howell, the boy’s grin is strained. 

 _Same_ , commiserates Phil in his head, and stares desolately down at his plate.

It hadn’t been a very successful tutoring session, either. Howell, as it turns out, isn’t the brightest when it comes to Biology (surprise, surprise). Neither is Phil, by that extent, so they’d spent a good twenty minutes trying to figure out in which side of the body the liver is actually located. (Eventually they’d Googled it.) Phil then began attempting to explain the seven main functions of the liver to a clueless Howell, who kept interrupting with stupid questions like “so what does the appendix do, anyway?” and “why is any of this fucking relevant at all?”.

So, later on in the car, Phil opens his conclusively stupid mouth to ask, “Would you like to continue working on the project tomorrow?”

Howell stares straight ahead and doesn’t answer for a good while, and Phil wonders what it means if the boy’s more willing to talk to his mum then he is to talk to him.  _Christ_ , why’s he coming to Phil for help, anyway? The project could literally be completed by copying and pasting data from Wikipedia, any mindless robot could manage that.

Phil drives in silence through the town until they reach the road Howell had mentioned before. He slows down and glances at the boy out the corner of his eyes. “Where do I stop?” he asks.

“Here will do.”

The moment Phil pulls the car over to the side, in between of two houses and in front of a clump of shrubs, Howell pulls open his door and hops out. Then he says in a sing-song voice, “See you tomorrow!” and slams the door shut.

Phil watches in stunned silence as Howell walks down the road into the darkness, his hands crossed in front of him and his head tossed back, looking up at the starless night. Then he lets his head fall onto the steering wheel and lets out an angry but short-lived yell.

v.

**7:18 PM | Phil  
 _hi!!!!!! guess what. daniel howell was just????? over at my house  
_  
7:21 PM | Louise  
** _????????????_

**_Louise is calling_ **

“Hello?”

“Oi. Lester. Spill the beans.”

“I don’t know, okay? He cornered me yesterday after you helpfully sodded off - “

“It was self defense is all I wish to say on the matter.”

“Self defense, my arse.”

“Are you about to tell me why he was at your house today?”

“He needed help. In a project.”

“Right.”

“He did! And he thinks I’m a nerd, so he bullied me into agreeing to help him out.”

“Ha. How did that go?”

“Horribly. And now he’s coming over tomorrow again? Jeez, Louise.”

“Do not go there Phillip. Hang on a second, let’s three-way with the midget.”

**_Chris Kendall has been added to the call._ **

“Hullo my mates, what’s a-cooking?”

“Christopher Kendall, my short and loyal servant, I’m afraid we have a crisis at hand. Hold onto your hat because Daniel Howell - the Daniel Howell - was over at Phil’s today.”

“Best friend with mean scary eyes and long pedicured talons say what?”

“It is true, small one. And he’s coming over tomorrow as well, oh God. I don’t even know why.”

“Look man, I don’t mean to be offensive or anything, but he probably just wants to fuck your mum.”

**_Chris Kendall has been removed from the call._ **

“He has a point, though.”

**_Louise has been removed from the call._ **

**_Louise has been added to the call._ **

“Phil!”

“I’m sorry! I just - can we take this seriously, for a moment? Because I’d consider this a code red situation, but maybe that’s just me.”

“It is just you.”

“But Louise - “

“Phil, bub, listen to me. He probably just really wants to ace beginner’s Biology all of a sudden, okay? You’re quiet and like to carry your books to and from school every single day so he think’s you’re a nerd, can’t even be blamed for it, bless his soul. Just go with it, alright? It’ll be over soon and you can assume your low-key not-nerd status and everything will make sense again.”

“... okay.”

“You okay?”

“Think so. Thanks, Louise.”

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> [my tumblr](http://oopsiwritefanficdonttellmum.tumblr.com)


End file.
